My Stepfather, My Ruin

14

Roxy

The front door opened somewhere beyond the sitting room, and my mother’s voice carried through the house before she appeared.

“Dorian? Roxy? Is anyone home?”

I had never been so relieved to hear anyone’s voice in my life.

Dorian didn’t move at first. For one long second, his eyes stayed on me, unreadable, and I thought he might simply ignore her and keep me pinned to this sofa until she wandered off somewhere else in the house.

Then he leaned back into the armchair and called out, “In here, darling.”

My mother appeared in the doorway a moment later, pulling off her earrings, her cheeks flushed. She stopped when she saw us.

“Oh, Roxy. I didn’t know you were home.” Her eyes moved between the two of us, something flickering behind them that might have been suspicion, or maybe just surprise. “What are you two doing in here?”

“Roxy skipped another meal,” Dorian said smoothly before I could answer. “I was making sure she ate properly and rested before going upstairs.”

“That’s sweet of you, honey.” My mother crossed the room and kissed his cheek, then turned her attention to me, studying my face for a moment too long. “You look pale, sweetie. Are you feeling alright?”

“I’m fine, Mom. Just tired.”

“You’ve been tired a lot lately.” She said it lightly, but something about her tone wasn’t light at all.

“Exams,” I said, which wasn’t entirely a lie.

“Well.” She sat on the arm of Dorian’s chair, one hand resting on his shoulder. “Now that I’m home, you should go upstairs and rest properly. I’ll keep your father company.”

I had never wanted to obey an instruction so badly in my life.

“Okay.” I stood before anyone could suggest otherwise, my legs less steady than I wanted them to be. “Goodnight, Mom. Goodnight, Dad.”

“Goodnight, darling,” Dorian said, and the warmth in his voice made my skin crawl.

I made it as far as the bottom of the grand staircase before the front door swung open hard, slamming against the stop.

Evander walked in like a man who had spent the last several hours holding onto his anger.

He stopped when he saw me by the railing. The look he gave me was so cold that I forgot what I’d been about to say.

“b***h,” he muttered under his breath.

“What did you just say?”

“You heard me, Roxy.” A cruel smile curved his mouth, feeding on my anger.

My hands closed into fists at my sides. “Did you just call me that?”

“Yes.” He stepped closer. “Isn’t that what you are? A cheap, calculating little s**t? Same as that...” He jerked his chin toward the sitting room, his face twisting. “...mother of yours. A parasite, marrying my father for his fortune.”

“What are you talking about?”

Evander didn’t raise his voice. He lowered it instead, each word calm and deliberate.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about. Whatever scheme you and your mother are running, I will destroy it. I’ll make sure you both go back to the hell you crawled out of.”

“How...” My voice faded into nothing.

There was no heat in his eyes. That was what frightened me. I had seen Evander angry before, back when we were together, and this wasn’t that. This was cold, settled, and patient.

I stood frozen against the marble as he turned and took the stairs two at a time.

I didn’t realize I was shaking until my mother’s voice came from behind me.

“Roxy? What are you still doing down here?”

I turned slowly, forcing my shoulders down and my face to stay blank. “I was just...”

“Is something wrong?” Dorian stepped into view.

“No,” I stammered. “Nothing is wrong.”

Dorian’s eyes narrowed as he studied me. “Did Evander just come back?”

“Yes.”

“Where is he?”

“He went up to his room.”

“I see.” His voice stayed calm. “You should go rest as well.”

I was sure he would push. I was sure he’d question me right there in front of her.

He didn’t.

But I felt both of their eyes on me the whole way up the stairs, heavy enough to feel like hands on my back.

I lay in the dark with Evander’s sneer playing over and over in my head, waiting for sleep that wasn’t going to come.

Peace, I was starting to understand, was something this house had taken from me the day I walked into it.

Just as my mind finally began to drift, the latch turned. The door opened quietly.

“Roxy?” My mother’s voice came softly through the dark. “Are you asleep?”

“Mom.” I pushed myself up against the headboard and turned on the lamp.

She walked in and sat on the edge of my bed. “I noticed something strange with you earlier,” she began, her voice soft and careful. “That day...” She stopped, searching for the right words. “Did you happen to hear something?”

I said nothing for a long moment. I wasn’t going to give her anything.

First Dorian cornering me, now my mother questioning me, and Evander promising to destroy us both. Everyone in this house wanted something from me, and no one would say what.

“Roxy?” she pressed.

“Mom, I don’t understand what you’re asking.”

“You didn’t hear anything?” She leaned closer, searching my face. If Dorian had looked at me that hard, I might have cracked. Looking at her, I felt only a cold emptiness. “That day, when you came home from school. I was on the patio, on the phone. Did you hear what I was saying?”

I reached out and took her hands, using the same gesture she’d used with me my entire life.

“Mom, you can tell me anything,” I said gently, making my voice as warm as I could. “Was it an important call?”

“No,” she answered quickly. “It’s... it’s nothing, Roxy. If you didn’t hear anything, it doesn’t matter.”

I stroked the back of her hand slowly. “I didn’t hear a thing. You know I always announce myself when I come home.” I met her eyes. “Are you hiding something from me?”

“Never!” She leaned in and kissed my forehead. “I would never hide anything from my precious daughter.”

Precious daughter.

A bitter laugh rose in my throat, and I swallowed it.

“Really?”

“Of course. If anything ever happened to me, you would be the very first person I’d tell.”

“Where did you go today, Mom?” I asked, keeping my voice innocent. “Who did you meet?”

“Mia,” she replied without missing a beat.

And there it was.

The moment something I’d been carrying for twenty-three years finally came loose. I looked at the woman sitting on my bed and could no longer see the person I thought I knew.

“She invited me to her place for tea,” she added.

If I hadn’t seen her myself this afternoon, I would have believed every word.

After dropping Anna off, David had taken a shortcut back. Anna lived on the far side of town, in a neighborhood where poverty showed in the crumbling buildings. Outside a dingy café there, my mother had been sitting with Liam.

Laughing. Drinking tea. Her hand resting on his.

So he’d opened the door for her after all.

She looked happier than I had ever seen her with Dorian. If I hadn’t been giving Anna a ride home, I never would have known.

“Was it nice?” I asked quietly. “Did you have fun?”

My mother smiled, a bright, almost breathless smile, a soft blush rising to her cheeks. She was looking at me, but her mind seemed to be somewhere else.

“Yes, honey,” she said. “I enjoyed every minute.”

“I’m glad you’re happy, Mom.” My chest tightened around the words. “You should go out with your friend more often.”

“Oh, I intend to. Being around Mia just calms my nerves.”

“I should sleep now. Early class tomorrow.”

“Of course, sweetie. I’ll let you rest.”

She smoothed my blanket, stood, and walked out of the room. I listened to the latch click shut behind her.

I sat there for a long while.

Every kiss on the forehead, every warm tray of food, every gentle touch over twenty-three years. I went through them one by one and tried to compare them with what I had just seen. For the first time, they felt like something other than love.

They felt like maintenance.

The winter we lost power came back to me anyway. The two of us under every blanket in the apartment, her voice soft in the phone light.

I tried to hold onto that memory.

It slipped away, replaced by a colder thought: a woman who needed something to keep her warm, and I had been the one within reach.

I knew that wasn’t the whole truth. I knew anger was changing the way I remembered things.

But knowing that didn’t make the memory feel warm again.

She hadn’t come up tonight to comfort me.

She had come to find out what I knew, to make sure the daughter who kept her comfortable wasn’t about to ruin it.